


A Desperate Gamble

by Bluewolf458



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Gen, Sentinel Thursday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-08 01:07:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11635785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluewolf458/pseuds/Bluewolf458
Summary: A slight rewrite of Jim and Blair's first meeting





	A Desperate Gamble

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Sentinel Tursday prompt 'desperate'

A Desperate Gamble

by Bluewolf

Going to Rainier University was a gamble, but Jim Ellison was desperate.

He had feared he was going insane, and had even gone to see the department shrink... who told him he was perfectly sane.

He wondered if he might, somehow, have been drugged, but when he ran a blood test on himself, it came up clear.

Then he wondered if he might have a brain tumor. On his first visit to the hospital, the doctors had found nothing wrong. Two or three days later he went back to the hospital, almost begging the doctor for more tests.

While he was waiting for the results, a young - very young - doctor had come in, telling him to forget the tests, calling them 'techo-trash', telling him he needed information that he would get from _this_ man (handing him a business card) then leaving. Moments later another, older, doctor entered, saying that the tests they had run so far had shown up nothing, but that he had scheduled some additional tests...

When Jim left the hospital two hours later, still without any answers, he looked again at the business card, sighed, then climbed into his truck and drove - rather more slowly than was his wont - towards Rainier University.

Surely someone attached to the university wouldn't be the sort of charlatan he might expect to find at a private address... But at the same time...

At the same time what information could whoever-it-was at Rainier give him that would resolve his problem?

He found the 'office' (an artifact storage room, for heaven's sake - what university professor had an 'office' in an artifact storage room?) and wasn't totally surprised to see that the occupant was the young man who had given him the business card at the hospital.

"Why are you in my face?" he snarled.

"Oh - sorry about that stuff at the hospital," the youngster said. "I just needed to get you into my space... easier to talk here. My name is Blair Sandburg. I'm a doctoral student, and I think you might just be the living embodiment of my field of study - "

Jim half tuned out the enthusiastic babble, but he did register the words 'behavioral throwback to a pre-civilized breed of man'. He suddenly realized that he had slammed the kid against the wall and was saying, "... behavior is giving me probable cause to shake this place down from top to bottom for narcotics... "

He was known in the PD for a man whose attitude could have the most hardened criminals pissing their pants; he wasn't totally sure how to react to a kid who couldn't be a day more than... mentally he reassessed the age upwards a little since the kid had said 'doctoral candidate'... twenty one or twenty two, who seemed to be totally unfazed by him. He released the kid and stepped back, half expecting the youngster to make a run for the door.

But no; Sandburg (Jim remembered the name with an effort) headed for his desk and picked up a heavy-looking book (he needed both hands, though that might just have been because it was open) and held it out towards Jim.

"Let me just show you something here. This is a monograph by Sir Richard Burton - no, not the actor, this Richard Burton was a nineteenth century explorer. According to Burton, back in his time all tribal villages had what he called a sentinel - someone who patrolled the border." He pushed the book, which was open at a picture of a tribal warrior, towards Jim.

Jim's attention was now caught despite himself.

"A scout?"

"No - more like a watchman. You see, the sentinel would watch for approaching enemies, changes in the weather, movement of game. What he could do made tribal survival easier."

"All right, I get that. But what's this got to do with me?"

"It was all due to very acute sensory awareness. A sentinel could hear better, see further... The most common manifestation of heightened senses today is what you find in, say, tea or coffee blenders - they taste new blends, always trying to find the perfect taste." He gave a wry chuckle. "Of course they never will - some people prefer a sweet flavour, others prefer tart, savoury, even bitter. The blenders know that; the best they can hope for is find a blend that will appeal to maybe three-quarters of the public.

"Some of the top sportsmen have excellent eyesight. Some musicians, especially composers, have very good hearing. But what you never seem to find today is someone with all five major senses heightened.

"I think, though, that you do have all five. But what it means is that you're aware of everything. Of sounds too faint, too distant, for most of us to hear. Things too far away for the rest of us to see are perfectly clear to you."

Jim frowned. "But my senses were perfectly normal until... "

After a few moments of silence - "Until?"

"It was just a few days ago. I was on a stakeout and I suddenly began to hear things... "

"Were you alone?" Sandburg asked.

"Yes... "

"According to Burton, time spent alone could trigger the senses. And your mind doesn't know how to deal with all that input. I think what you need is someone who understands the problem to work with you."

"Like you? What would be your payoff?"

"My doctorate. I'd keep your identity secret, obviously, but I want to write about you. You're my thesis!"

"I'm not that desperate, kid." He turned and walked out.

As he went he thought over what the kid - Sandburg - had said. It made sense - _that's not a pun!_ he told himself - but he didn't need some over-qualified college student to tell him what to do.

He froze, suddenly becoming aware of a sound - it seemed familiar but he couldn't quite put a name to what it was - and the next thing he knew he was lying on the ground between the wheels of a heavy vehicle. It halted just past him... and there was a figure lying beside him. A figure he recognized as it scrambled to its feet.

"What... " he began as the driver appeared beside them.

"Are you guys okay?" The driver looked pretty shaken.

"Yeah," Sandburg said. "Sorry about that - my friend's a bit upset right now - a personal matter that's worrying him, and he sometimes forgets where he is while he's thinking about it. Just shouting at him wasn't going to work, but I got him down in time. I've been trying to persuade him to see someone about it - I think he maybe will, now?" he looked quizzically at Jim.

"You're probably right," Jim muttered. In some ways it wouldn't have bothered him if he'd been killed - anything would be better than this unsettling sensory awareness - but he might just have been badly injured... and in any case it wasn't right to leave an innocent truck driver with the death of someone who was daydreaming on his conscience. He looked at the guy. "Sorry."

"Just watch you don't start dreaming again in the middle of the road," the driver said, and turned to get back into his vehicle.

Sandburg caught Jim's arm. "Come on," he said, and led Jim back into the building, back to artifact storage room 3.

Jim went, unresisting. Sandburg could offer him help... and yes - he was indeed desperate enough to accept it.


End file.
